Knockback
by Fandomoverload5
Summary: "Enemy combatants!" He jumped at Lance who casually sidestepped, then watched as the ginger man crashed to the ground. "Ah quiznak! You're lucky I have of a case of the old sleep chamber knees!" "Coran, quit messing around and come help me open the other pods!" (Or the fic that nobody asked for, where Lance is the only TRUE earthling at the start of canon)


Lance spoke calmly into his intercom, while leaning back in his seat. "Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14. Begin descent to Kerberos for rescue mission." Lance watched as their ship began to renter the atmosphere.

Nola, the resident engineer, groaned and said "Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" He shrugged and said "Sorry, Nola, I'm just getting a feel for the stick."

Nola had soft features, very undefined but undeniably compelling. She was stern, unlike her appearance, and often wore very plain clothing to go with her very plain personality (not as an insult, she just was very plain). She was kind, yes, but not someone Lance would get to know. She was not someone who found enough joy in the company of others to actually go out of their way to be around them. Pretty different from Lance, even though he didn't leave his room most of the time.

"Feel the stick later, we've picked up a distress beacon!" Winta shouted, spinning in her chair. She, however was more like Lance. Outspoken, and noisy. Easy to read, and was the most dictionary definition of a open book there was. She was their best asset.

Nola spoke again, being the one usually in charge. "All right, look alive, team! Winta, track coordinates." "Copy."

The ship shook again sending Nola flying sideways. "Knock it off, Lance! Please!"

The computer beeping almost drowned out her voice, as she righted herself

"This one's on you. We've got a hydraulic stabilizer out." Nola shook her head and watched Lance fiddle with the equipment above his head then said, "Oh, no."

"I lost contact. The shaking is interfering with our sensors." Winta looked to Lance, who was getting nervous, mostly because each passing second is one more closer to the ground. "Come on, Nola!"

"It's not working!" She undid her belt and ran to the control panel, and managed to get at least some of the shaking under control. "Preparing for approach on visual." Lance felt his mind slow down and his hands begin to sweat. They were watching him and would critique it. If only he were alone, then it'd be fine. Nobody to watch him if he messed up.

"I don't think that's advisable with our current mechanical issues!" Winta shouted while hitting buttons Lance had at one point memorized and long since forgotten, then Nola yelled "Agreed."

"What do you say we do? Crash?" Lance looked to Winta who sighed and shook her head, before undoing her belt and standing on her seat to reach the com she needed. "Attention, lunar vessel-"

With a major belt of turbulence, she was thrown to the ground. Winta picked herself off the floor and grabbed the com again. "What are you doing? Buckle your belt!" Nola yelled, but Lance wanted to focus more on the root of the issue. "Nola, I need you to stop that shaking!" Winta yelled into the com again, ignoring Nola's looks of desperation. "I'm trying!" She yelled to Lance, then got back to work.

"Attention, lunar vessel, this is Galaxy Garrison Rescue Craft One Victor Six Three Tango. Coming in for landing and extraction... against crew recommendations." Winta muttered the end and let the handheld part retract back to the ceiling.

"No time for your mutinous comments now, Winta. They're going under and we're going in." Lance took a deep breath and let his instincts take over. He didn't have a good perception of their ships size, but that's okay. Just stay far from everything.

The ground zoomed into view, as Lance yanked the ship parallel to it. They flew over the sand and towards hills. "Voltron Overhang!" Winta was panicked, even though Lance had never felt so at ease, the pressure usually did this to him. Rely on your instincts, and life will

be a breeze. "Voltron Overhang?" Nola questioned, while clutching her seat.

"No! I said I have visualization on the overhang! We're not getting good readings !" Winta frantically hit buttons and did whatever else was necessary to keep their ship in the air.

"No worries." Then to himself, Lance whispered "my first year in flight school, they called me "The Tailor" because of how I thread the needle," and chuckled.

"Stop complimenting yourself and look out!" Nola pointed at the overhang getting dangerously close, while Winta threw her arms over her eyes. "Come around, come around! Come on, come on!" Lance muttered to himself as they soared through the opening.

Winta opened her eyes and sighed in relief as we looked over an open field. "We're clear!" Nola couldn't hide her cheer, with a loud "Yes!" Lance, however, could feel the nerves in his stomach going crazy. "Oh, man..."

"Prepping landing gear. Nice job, Lance. Winta smiled at Lance but he could barely smile back. He was just so happy to be alive. "Nola, you've got stabilizers?"

"Yup. Ready to go when you are." He pulled them out of their little valley best he could with the stabilizers out, and managed to make a shark turn towards the field. They were still going down, but slower than they were five minutes earlier. Lance gained his voice again to say, "On my mark. In three... two... now..."

The landing gear slammed into position with a loud hiss, before the vessel touched down with a light bump.

Winta, Nola and Lance stared at the green lights, and the rectangular-like box that said "simulation cleared", then stood up.

"Nice work, Tailor." Winta smiled at him, that deadly smile. She had jet black hair, with skin to match. Her steel grey eyes held fondness when looking at Lance. Ever since their first day in school, they'd been watching each other. Little things, from day one. Lance, although somewhat of a self-proclaimed ladies man, had stopped when he saw her. He never winked, nodded, or so much as stared at other girls anymore. He wasn't sure why. Content? Here he was, spending all day with a gorgeous girl, at the end of the day he was too tired to find others beautiful. She just outshone all of them.

Lance gave her his usual smile back. "It was nothin'." Winta nodded sarcastically, "whatever you say."

"Well done cadets. Minor mistakes, anyone want to name one?" Iverson looked out over the hoard of classmates all itching to take down the other teams.

Two hands shot up, and the girl in the back was called on. "Two people took of their seat belts in flight." Then he pointed to the other. "They fought for most of the time!"

Iverson nodded and turned back to the three of us, all lined up shoulder to shoulder. Wintas arm lightly brushed mine, and my stomach couldn't stop the slight tingling.

"You all did your jobs successfully. There's trust in your team, but your pilot is not your leader. You have bad chemistry, all three of you. You will be put in new groups by next week."

Lance shrugged out of his room, and down the hall. He had to go somewhere, and do something. He saw all the little clusters of people standing there talking, it was rough. He'd never admit it, but it was rough. Lance was good at talking, but not at talking to friends. He had hundreds of acquaintances, but if he ever got bored there was nobody he was close enough to that he'd initiate any sort of friendship activity. Even his roommate was barely more than an acquaintance. He missed the friends he had before this school. The ones he was with before he got moved up. It wasn't fair that he got to be in class with them for three years and then be switched up where he knew no one.

"Lights out in five!"

When they went dark, Lance crept through the hallway to the roof. It wasn't hard to get there, especially when the guards are beyond oblivious. How did they not notice the plant had a jacket? Ridiculous.

Lance crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down over the valley. It was so peaceful in the dark, with nothing but the stars in the sky. It let Lance breathe deeply, and think about whatever he wanted. Mostly Winta. They weren't on the same team anymore, all because of Nola. If she would just back down and let him lead, then they'd be together. But noooo, it's all what Nola wants.

Lance stopped himself. He wasn't mad at Nola, he really doesn't blame her, but he wants someone to blame. They were a good team, damnit. They survived and landed cleanly. Damn you, Iverson.

"Attention students. This is not a drill. We are on lockdown. Security code zulu-niner. Repeat: all students are to remain in their barracks until further notice." Lance jumped at the alarms blaring, and rushed to stand up, only then did he see it. A giant flaming-hot ball went soaring through the sky and slammed down in the middle of the desert. Lance jumped back and gasped in surprise as the shockwave sent heat rippling over his body.

He gathered his wits and set his mind on running. He climbed down the side of the building on the maintenance ladders and jumped the last two feet. He ran the whole way, through the desert hills.

The garrison didn't have a physical test that had to be taken, but they looked down on pilots that weren't exactly up to standards with fitness. Lance was slim, could do a hundred push-ups in one shot, but was by no means physically fit. They let him slide but one of the pilots in his other class left halfway through the year because of it. This place was brutal.

Lance finally crested the hill and peered over it at the makeshift tent around what appeared to be... a purple spaceship? "That's not one of ours." Lance whispered to himself, before laying down on the ground and staring at the hut. Cars came and went with ease, all from the garrison.

Lance pulled out a pair of binoculars he thanked God he had in his pocket, and peered down at the door. The sun had just begun to rise, and put a soft light blue glow over everything, making Lance feel at ease. Sunrises are so worth the early wake-up.

The curiosity burned behind Lances eyes, and forced him to thinking about how on earth he was supposed to get in there. Dig under? No, that would take too long. Maybe he could sneak in, but not with all those guards outside. He'd need a distraction.

With no supplies, and no hope, Lance made a dash down the hill. He stayed out of sight from the Garrison guards, and crept ever closer to the base. He made it all the way to the base, and managed to grab a gun from an abandoned rack. He also snaked a med kit laying near it, then took off back into the hills. They hadn't set up proper security yet, and he got out by some stroke of luck. When he was out, he got about two miles away, then got to work.

Kneeling down, Lance opened the med kit. He poured the bullets from the gun into the lid, and began to go through the contents. He needed something for the- there it is!

Okay the bullets. Would wood fire melt them? Would smoke draw attention? No. No bullets, just the medical box contents.

"No FREAKING WAY!" Lance yanked the heart medicine from its spot in the bottom of the med kit. "This is too good!" Lance opened the bottle to see it basically full, and almost shed a tear. "This is too good to be true..." he muttered while closing the lid again, and digging a small hole in the sand. He struck a match, then threw the rest on top, followed by almost all the bandages in the kit.

The fire stayed lit wonderfully long enough to roast the medicine, that he switched into one of the gloves. While he rotated the glove over the fire every minute or so, he also began to unfold the fire blanket, which was mirrored to the point of blinding him. Lance couldn't help but grin again. Luck was in his favor today.

He set up, with abandoned sticks and rocks, a small area of sand that glowed brilliantly in the new day. He shook the glove and saw the pills had been reduced to liquid, and grinned again. Thank you nitroglycerin.

He packed up the kit and pocketed a few important items to sit with the other important items he kept with him. He stuffed the kit under a large boulder on the base of the hill he had done this near, and held up the glove to the light. He grinned sadisticly and whispered, "this better work," before putting one end of a bandage in the sun spot he had created with the blanket. He knew it was stupid to burn every match, but he needed the materials to burn.

He wrapped the glove in the bandage, then took off. That should be enough direct heat to melt the plastic, and set off the explosion. Lance left the gun behind, too, obviously wiped of DNA. He didn't want anyone hurt, he just needed to see what was in that tent.

Lance had felt an odd energy for the past couple days, and felt a tingling sensation every time his mind drifted to what was in the tent, while he waited. There was a mission that had been lost a while back, but that probably had nothing to do with this. That was five years ago, after all.

Lance was patient, though he wasn't usually seen as that. He was the kind of patient where his mind could wander for hours and he still wouldn't be bored. Just a talent. As he was staring, he began to notice little things in the rocks below him. Little blue divits that looked like they were drawn in. After all, this area was pretty populated by Native Americans pre-Columbus, so they're probably just left over from that. The little markings looked like a cat.

Lance wondered if they were made by a kid, or someone with a very shaky hand. That made him sad. A kid from so long ago, his name was lost forever.

He was deep in thought about the kid when the ground pulsated. Lance looked over at his bomb site and sure enough, a smoke cloud shone like a beacon to the Garrison men, who all scrambled to get a closer look. When they'd cleared out, Lance made a break for it. He charged for the tent and got through, only to see it was a one-room tent with three guys inside. They all looked over at the boy in surprise, giving the kid on the bed just enough time to grab the nearest one and slam his head against the table next to him. Lance yanked one away from the control panel just before he hit the alert button to call the guards back. The kid hit the guy square in the chest and sent him tumbling over the bed he had just laid on, knocking him out.

Lance threw the man he was holding towards the guy, who gave him a swift uppercut, and left Lance to catch his unconscious body. Lance lowered him to the floor, then took a step back to take in the guy in front of him. "You're Keith, right? I recognize you! You were the guy who was lost in that mission!"

"Good thing I wasn't lost. Taken, more like it. Let's go." Lance stared at him in bewilderment, and with his mouth gaping he asked, "taken? By what!"

Keith shook his head and said, "not now. Let's leave. Fast." Lance heard the cars rolling back, and at a quick pace. He could see the rocky floor shaking from their cars. "Smart idea. How?"

Keith looked around desperately, then grabbed the badge from the closest unconscious man and held it up. "Just walk out the front door."

Keith was as good a pilot as they said. Lance and Keith had just got in a car, but he could tell Keith just had that edge. That subtle twitch in his finger as they moved. Things like that. Keith was smart too, following the path the Garrison men had taken to the tent thing. He pulled off of the dusty indent for a road after maybe five minutes of not-so-smooth travel, and shut the car off. He had barely pulled the car out of view when three more raced around the bend in the path towards the site.

Lance took this as an opportunity to bond with the new addition to Earth. "You were in the garrison five years ago? That means you went on a space mission when you were 10!"

Keith coughed and got out of the car, followed soon after by Lance. They walked in silence, Lance half a step behind Keith. "I was 12, actually." He said, after the longest time. "Huh?" "I was 12 when I was taken."

Lance mimicked Keith, with his eyes trained on the ground. "Taken?" His face didn't change. He didn't seem bitter about that word, just like it was a fact. What an odd guy. Lance thought he must've been lonely here on Earth, not being sad about leaving and all. Maybe he wasn't sad, and he just came to terms with it. Or he's just really good at hiding stuff. Maybe all three.

"There's others up there. Actually, there's more creatures existing than there is grains of sand in this desert. I'm part of something bigger, and now you are too. How'd you find me, anyway?"

Lance was busy trying to process the whole "aliens are real and you're even more insignificant" thing before he started answering questions. Keith snapped in front of lances face, drawing him to reality again. "Say again?"

Keith sighed dramatically and said "how'd you find my ship? You obviously aren't with the Garrison." Lance shrugged. "I was sitting on the roof and I guess I saw your pod crash land. I followed the smoke and wanted to find out what it was. Especially after the Garrison was placed on lockdown. I'm still in school, by the way. Fighter class pilot."

Lance said that proudly, even though he was maybe third, if not second, to worst in the program. At least he was in it.

"I was too. Iverson still in charge of you?" Lance nodded, and saw Keith snarl. It left a weird taste in his mouth. "What's so bad about him? Sure he's a dick sometimes but he's usually pretty normal."

Keith shook his head and said "old, petty rivalries. Nothing important." Lance could tell the guy wanted to berate him with questions about the Garrison, and what it's doing now. Why he held back, Lance couldn't tell.

"Taken. Why?" Keith sighed again and kicked a rock. "Chance, mostly. Then it just worked out that I had to stay there for a while. A few fights had to be won for me to be here right now."

Lance looked around slightly jittery. "Will they attack us here? Whatever alien dudes you fight?" Keith shook his head and kicked his rock two feet ahead of the pair.

"Why'd you come back? Couldn't you come back before?" Keith shrugged at the question. "Never had much reason to. I don't exactly have a dog to feed or something like that. We're actually going to my house right now."

Lance looked around, at the empty desert for miles. It was, all in all, completely empty. Lance decided it might've been dumb to trust this guy who fell from the sky and immediately started talking about aliens. It should've been a sign for Lance to leave when he saw the doctors about to inject him with something. What had he gotten himself into?

"Are you sure you're not here to exterminate the entire human race? What if the aliens used their alien magic to make you want to steal cows, and make crop circles, and plow fields, and other farm labor?" Keith shot Lance a dirty look that was half confusion, half amusement. His amusement was still diluted, but at least it wasn't all confusion.

Hours ticked by as the sun journeyed across the sky. Lance tried to strain back to his memories as a kid of Greek myths and things, where the guy in the chariot would go across the sky. Hermes? No that wasn't it... oh dang it was Apollo! Always forgot that one.

Too many hours ticked by, and Lance began to worry. Keith wasn't exactly a talker, which just left him to be anxious. The school would expel him if he ever returned, so why give them the satisfaction? Sneaking out during a lockdown? At night? Alone? Hell, they were probably still in lockdown right now when they found out Keith had escaped.

When they found out Lance had escaped.

It sent chills down his spine, knowing he was doing something wrong. Maybe it was the attention that it brought him, that maybe he would finally be noticed. Maybe people would even worry about him, the people he wished he could call friends. He did have one friend but she wasn't a friend. She was different...

A little while later Lance checked his watch to see it was almost two PM. "I'm sitting down." Lance announced before collapsing on the ground. "Not right now. We have less than an hour to go."

Lance groaned and laid down, letting the sand stick to the right half of his face. "Noooooo" Lance whined, while closing his eyes. The hot desert sun was beating down on them pretty hard now, even though noon had just passed. "You know my grandpa told me when I was younger- he said "how far do you walk?" and me being the kid I am I said, "as far as you can go!" and he was like "no you only walk half as far as you can go, that way you can get home," and i'm warning you this is halfway i'm not walking more than this to get home I don't want to walk anymore how far is this wha-"

Keith shoved lances stomach with his foot, making Lance shout in protest. "What! I didn't sign up to go on a desert hike in the middle of the day! Just because i'm brown doesn't mean I don't sweat! If anything I swear more, because darker colors attract more sunlight!"

"Wouldn't I attract more because i'm in all black pants with a black shirt on?" "Screw you, Buddy." Lance laid back down and was kicked again. "Stop! I didn't sleep last night I need one minute! God!"

Keith let out a huff and said "suit yourself." Before walking a few steps away and peeing. Lance ignored him and continued to catch his breath. He wasn't exactly doing vigorous work, but it was draining for long times, in the heat especially. Keith better have stupid water in his stupid hut that's stupidly cold, or else I'll die. Lance though to himself, before opening his eyes again. Keith was standing and staring at Lance, more specifically from the knees down.

"What?" "What?" "Why are you staring at my legs?" Keith pointed to lances sneakers and said, "where are the uniforms? We couldn't wear jeans on garrison property. Besides your shoes are weird."

Lance shook his head, "my shoes are perfectly in style, thank you very much! Besides, I've always worn jeans. They let you wear them to things after class, if you like see your family on weekends and stuff like that." Keith made a face that was like Nola reacting to dumb puns, except it was more bland than that. Lance didn't think anyone could react less to a perfectly concocted joke. Too bad Winta wasn't here, she would've torn Keith a new asshole with puns.

"Let's go," Lance said, and held out an arm to have Keith help lift him. Lance groaned and stretched for a moment, before nodding to Keith. As they took their first two dozen steps away from their area, Lance took off his jacket and tied it around his waist, then rolled up his shirt sleeves. Keith wore this odd red jacket that didn't even come down to his waist, it didn't make sense. Just... make it longer.

They, after countless hours (six) they made it to the shack in the middle of the desert. "Can people follow our footsteps?"

Keith looked at Lance as they climbed the rotting wooden steps and said, "wouldn't they have already gotten us?" then yanked open the door. It let lose a cloud of dust that almost blinded Lance, but he quickly got used to it. The light was beautiful though the dirty windows, staining everything in the room a whiskey color.

Lance pointed to the couch and said, "nap? Can I?" Keith shrugged and closed the screen door, but left the heavy wood one open, to let the musty smell air out. Five years of nothing, and God knows how many before.

Lance felt safe in this couch for some reason, it was a fabric that was thick but soft. It was slightly itchy and smelt like mothballs and dust, making it just hat much more wonderful. He closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep, leaving Keith to go about restoring the three room shack to livable conditions.

He swept the top layer of dust out of the house, then began to pick up the things that littered the ground around them. Keith crouched down and picked up one paper that had fallen, and stared at it intensely. The paper was all text, with a title of "Textual Evidence Behind Claim."

Keith actually broke into a smile, remembering how mad this had made Iverson. If he wasn't already selected to fly the mission, he probably would've been thrown on his ass. That's what this house was for, when he wanted to be away from people like Iverson, and imagine how nice it would be to be thrown from the program.

Keith tossed the paper on the desk he had in the small back room he mostly used as storage for his few belongings, like the tackle box his dad had given him, or the multitude of books his mother had left behind. All of them were just earth novels, nothing special. She was part human, after all.

Keith busied himself with a few more things before remembering their current food situation, and going to check the cabinet. They were just as dusty as the room, and were for the most part empty. He threw out a handful of things that had expired years ago, then found a handful of cans. One had cranberry sauce, one had baked beans, and the last had peaches.

Keith knew that kid would wake up hungry, so he pushed his own aside to wait for him to wake up. Although...he didn't have to know about the peaches.

Keith tore open the lid and ate one, then another. The sugary juice exploded behind his eyes, as he licked his fingers with each slice he ate. The juice trickled down his arm and dripped off his elbow. He ate them way too quickly for his own preference, then drank the leftover juice. His mind tempted him to lick his own arm, but he gained his sanity and decided against it.

He threw the can in the bag he had declared garbage bag, then sat down at the table and stared at the ground. So much had happened since he sat in this chair. Hell, there's someone in the other room. That had never happened before, except maybe when they built the place.

With a sigh Keith leaned on the table, just as he used to in class, with his arms crossed and his head resting on top of both forearms. He stared at the decaying walls and all the pictures that were falling from old age. Before he knew it, his eyes were fluttering closed.


End file.
